Friday, April 17, 2009

Brief disclaimer - no walrussians and I'm too lazy to link (it's in the text at the head of the page) but I'm finally off my antibiotics so I can drink. And my head is better so I can drink. And after 10 days or so with NO drinks, it doesn't take much vodka to make me feel very willing to share.

The summer a year before Joe and I were married (1997), I was damn determined not to go home. My folks weren't the type that were accepting of "boomerang" children. Or even "summer vacation" children. In fact, their exact words when I left for college were "take it with you when you go, don't expect it to be here when you get back". Ok, cue the warm and fuzzy!

So, that first summer, I was offered a position at my student aide office helping out with their summer programs. In return, they offered free room and grocery reimbursement. Plus, a pathetic hourly wage. Yes please! This also would allow Joe to unofficially reside with me in order to continue his off-campus employment. Win win!

I'll spare the details of that summer, though they're quite fun. They include lying bosses, unbelievable BS work requirements, haunted dorm rooms, no grocery reimbursement and a lack of air conditioning. However, they also include a lovely summer visit from my family.

Unfortunately, I kinda forgot to tell the family that Joe was living in my dorm room. This despite the fact that I had basically told them not to bother calling me at MY dorm room the entire previous year because they wouldn't reach me there - call me at Joe's number! See, my parents like to ignore the elephant in the room unless you yell "OMG THERE'S AN ELEPHANT!". And it steps on them. And poos on their carpet.

So that summer, they said they were coming on a specific weekend. Joe and I spent the week leading up to that visit trying to rid my room of any traces of his existence. His clothes, his books, his laptop, everything put away. Keep in mind, they never ASKED where he was living that summer, yet he know he was "up there" (since we went to school north of home).

You might imagine how awkward the situation was when my father took me aside and we had the following conversation:

Dad: So... are you and Joe living together?Me: Umm, yeah. It didn't make sense for him to pay $500/mo in rent.Dad: And are the two of you having sex?Me: No. We're not.Dad: I'm not an idiot. I don't approve and I'm disappointed in your choice. You know what I think about that.Me: I said we're not but if you don't want to believe me and that's what you want to think, go for it.

Fast forward to a year later, a week before our wedding day:

Mom: Maybe it's time we had a talk about sex.Me: Dad accused us a year ago, what's there to talk about?Mom: Well, if you have any questions or there's anything you'd like me to explain.Me: No thanks.

Seriously, a year ago, you're accusing us of getting it on. And now a week before the wedding you want to explain it to me? Maybe I should take the time to fill you all in on the fact that Joe and I did get married young. I was 20. The freaks my mother hired to deal with the kitchen at my reception refused to pour me wine cooler kinda stuff for the toast because I was underage and alcohol is from the devil. Also, because my mother was/is such an intolerable human being I lived with my grandmother the summer before the wedding - and had been on birth control for 2 months at that point.

And while Joe and I weren't the innocent young things, we were both technically still virgins on our wedding night. And actually beyond - because we didn't get to our hotel the night of our wedding until 5am the next morning.

Anyways, really, my mother, who had always made it a point to tell me the evils of sex and terrify me about it to the point that I *still* have some issues to this day, really wanted to sit down a week before my wedding to tell me about the birds and the bees. This after my father accused me of being active a year before.

And why, you may ask, did he question me about our co-habitation and nookie? I wasn't sure. In fact, the conversation floored me. Until I returned to my room that evening... And noticed a pair of Joe's underwear peeking out from under the corner of my bed. I'm sure it's the first - and only - thing my father noticed when he entered my room. And it stayed on his mind through lunch, through the afternoon at the aquarium, and until he could corner me alone.

I don't know if I have a point. But Sassy Britches tweeted about having "a" sex talk with her mother (vs "THE" sex talk) last week and it reminded me of my own sex talk. And I felt like sharing. Aren't you glad?

P.S. Reading this back now, I'm not exactly sure what I was thinking when I wrote it last night. I fixed a couple of obvious mistakes but I might as well leave it as is. You'll all still love me, right?

I'm sorry your mom messed you up about sex. I am always blown away when I hear the "evil sex" spiel. But maybe that is because I grew up in Sweden and it is a whole other deal there. Sex is a natural part of life, and all that. :)

I missed out on the talk with my parents on this subject... My brother beat them to it. The only part they played in the discussion was to tell me he wasn't lying when I asked them if he was telling the truth or not.

Snarky - "Out of order" is one way of putting it. The European approach to so many things is almost completely opposite of how I was raised. My parents seemed to think outlawing everything was the way to go - which just made it all that much more appealing!

blognut - We were even sleeping in the same bed! But "weren't". Bet you never pegged me for the sort with any self control, huh?

Wow. That is a great story. Sounds painful, though, and I think it's really brave of you to share. Your parents approach to sex and other "vices" sounds like a nasty mix of Alex's Christian fundamentalist upbringing and my Catholic upbringing. I also have a lot of hang-ups regarding sex as a result, but I don't know if I'll ever be brave enough to write about it.

Alex and I married when I was 22, just after graduation. We might have gotten married earlier, but we didn't go to the same college. He actually drove 3.5 hours to visit me every weekend and stayed with me in my dorm, a fact I never tried to hide from my parents. I hoped they would trust my judgement and I was really hurt by their adamant disapproval. They were convinced I would end up pregnant within a few months. Obviously I didn't. And I'm still not, nearly nine years later. So I guess the laughs on them.

Wow! Your parents must compare notes with my parents. They were so excited to kick us all out. Mom would get bitchy if we stopped back to do a load of laundry. I got a RA job to live there free and I did get free food too!

Mom was nice a short spell when I had babies. Then, she turned again as my kids aged. I think retirement/ stock crash was hard on them.

It certainly DID poo on their carpet, didn't it? It does make for a fabulous story, though. Glad you didn't unpost it.

I would have died if my dad asked me that - and nearly melted of humiliation when my mom once snapped, "I know how boys are!" when I told her I wasn't having sex with my bf (now husband). She didn't believe me, either.. but then, I was lying. :)

p.s. I was almost 20 and married in '98. Weird, huh? Or maybe it's just me that's weird...

It's been suggested that I should tell my daughter about where babies come from. She's almost 8. The theory is that older kids will tell younger kids all kinds of weirdness about it so it's better to tell them yourself. Sigh.

Yeah, ew. I think I would be averse to that situation if my mother tried to have THE sex talk with me right before my wedding. I'm glad we adopted you. I know you've already had "the" talk, but feel free to join in on "a" talk now and again! :)

Juliet - isn't it great when they keep "warning" you you'll get pregnant and now they're like "are you EVER gonna have kids?". Butt out, people! I was definitely raised in a VERY conservative Christian home and that plays in for sure. Alex driving like crazy to see you reminds me of us. Joe was a year ahead and put so many miles on his car coming to see me. And of course this was before free long distance calls as well. Ouch!

Hit 40 - What's interesting with my folks is that I'm the oldest and while I got the boot at 18, my brother and sister were both allowed to live on after graduation with no issues.

RAS - I think my parents liked Joe more than me in a lot of ways. Except for him being an evil Catholic. I think we're about the same age, you and I.

Ribbon - I'm going to look into that book. The title definitely seems applicable.

Comedy Goddess - At 8, that seems so young and yet I bet she already knows a lot. I think I'd want to have a talk with her just so she would have mom's perspective on it.

MarjnHomer - That's too funny about your mom wanting grandchildren. Now that my sister had a baby, they've backed off me a bit.

human being - This post was definitely unfiltered. Sometimes I edit and take it easy with my posting. And sometimes I "puke up a post" and there it is. And if I trust enough to let those go, they are the most honest and get the best responses. It's still a bit scary though.

Sassy Britches - I'd definitely rather have "a" sex talk with your crew. Much less awkward I imagine.

soulbrush - I wonder how different your talk may have been 40 years ago. I mean, the mechanics are all the same but it seems like a more innocent time. Or at least that's what "they" always want us to think!

My sister pretty much spelled it out for my dad, so I'm sure my dad knows that we weren't so innocent when we got married. BUT then come to find out that when my sister was "spelling it out" for my dad about me, her and her bf were "doing the nasty" and they have PROOF of it cuz *she* got pg! Ha! Jokes on her! :0P

About Me

It's a blog. I'll probably write stuff in it.
Me, I'm married, no kids, two cats, one boring job. My life isn't that exciting so I like to complicate things with overthinking, health issues, and anxiety attacks. I also enjoy reading, writing, travel (if I could control the anxiety attacks), wine, hockey, and music. And long walks on the beach. And a sugar daddy.